The Power of Now

I feel horrible. I haven’t posted in over a month. Here I am neglecting our blog about creativity and motherhood because, quite simply, motherhood has gotten in the way. It's almost impossible to carve out 20 minutes of brain time when your three year old who used to sleep through the night—7 to 7 and then some—has completely regressed and now wakes more times per night than the one year old. (Eight, at last count.) When instead of grabbing a notebook or laptop and sitting outside in the fading lovely light and feeling the words return and stories take shape after you blithely put her to bed (and expect her to stay there like she always did), you spend the next hour standing guard outside her bedroom, putting her back to bed five, ten, 28 times in a row while trying not to lose your shit. And failing, miserably. 

ahh, the old peace & quiet

Evenings used to be my time to write, a guaranteed few hours of wide-open mental space and freedom from all parental responsibility, uninterrupted writing time. I know what everyone says: It’s a phase. This too shall pass. I want it to pass now. I want my evenings back. I want to not feel like I’ve been run over by a truck every morning when I wake up, exhausted from clenching my teeth in my sleep, and putty-brained by 7:30 PM, like I am right now in a condo in Colorado while Steve's out hiking and I'm so wiped I can't even be bothered to read my book or decipher which remote control turns on the TV. I want to be able to put her to bed and write a few pages in my notebook and then eat a slice of cheese or just zone out and do a yoga pose or two and watch the cat scratch her claws on the fence post without having to play prison guard to a three-foot-tall escape artist with attitude. Is that too much to ask? Yes, apparently it is—at least right now. 


I know I’m whining and should just suck it up. But I miss my writing. I miss my freedom. I miss my time. I miss feeling the rat-tat-tat of ideas knocking around in my brain. So, a resolution, inspired by motherhoodwtf: Write anyway. Write even when it’s messy and you feel like chucking your computer out the front door, screaming at the defiant child, or running away, or all of the above. During those moments, write anyway. Don’t wait for long idyllic stretches of peace and quiet because you might be waiting a very long time. Don’t expect perfection. Don't hold out for inspiration. Write right now. Especially now. 

There, I did it. It's not pretty. But I sort of almost maybe feel a little bit better already.